A year ago the knife broke. I tried to end my life and that damn knife, which had already opened up my flesh to begin dying, decided to break as it hit my arm in what I’d hoped would be the last stab to bleed out. A year ago life as I knew it … More When the Knife Broke: One Year Anniversary
In the Beginning The first time I earnestly cut I coupled it with an alcohol soaked pill overdose. I didn’t realize the depth you have to cut to do irreparable damage. I’d like to say this was my first suicide attempt. Or even my last. You’d think the risk of having to drink charcoal again … More Death of a Dreamer
An impending winter storm rages across the midwest, soon to settle upon your town. You have a Friday totally free of responsible human obligations. Do you: a) Buy wine (even though you told yourself you wouldn’t drink until next weekend). b) Buy macaroni and cheese (even though you are trying … More Pop Quiz
Joey and I used to take ‘finding magic’ day trips. We are both over this whole winter thing and ready for exploring!
I think about skin. A lot. I worry over signs of aging; are my wrinkles getting more prominent, is that an age spot or a freckle, why is that sagging?? I spend beyond my means in order to immerse myself in magic elixirs and dragon’s blood to smear away perceived imperfections. It’s a mystery to … More What is Pretty
Recovery…yeah, it’s an ongoing thing. My recovery train jumped track. Obviously, considering last weeks posts. Secrets are like cutting, no one but I see the mangled mess so I can keep it from everyone. Riiiiight. I let things get out of hand for a while there. Drinking perpetuates my self-loathing which makes me want to drink … More Jumping Track
That surreal moment when you wake up 15 minutes before you are supposed to be at work, when you reek of pot and cigarettes even though you don’t smoke either, when hanging out in the basement with a bunch of guys chilled out listening to rap and drinking from a red solo cup is so … More Solo Cup vs. Wine Glass
When alcohol doesn’t drown it, When blood doesn’t fill it in, There is more space for echoes, And wondering what more I’ll pay for my sin. In the empty the doubts crowd in, voices clamoring to be the loudest of the group, some yelling, others whispering, each one just as frightening. My pieces are still … More When the Voices Echo
The sub-moronic ramblings of a semi-functioning illiterate
Battling the heartache and uncertainty of going no contact with a narcissistic mother.
Because we’re all recovering from something.
When my ass talks, people listen.
three steps forward, two steps back- but you're still ahead.
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Real life stories...
Things Women Don't Usually Talk About
Stories, poems, photos and bumbles for the soul
salve regina
Writer - Mental Health Survivor - Advocate
...where the ladies are headstrong and the man is outnumbered.
Clean Cup! Move Down!
I'm just here to ruin a good thing
Words That Can’t
Even at Your Darkest 